There’s just something so damn sexy about Italian scooters. Oh Hell, let’s be honest, there’s something so damn sexy about Italians period.
Every time I drive through Sonoma my eyes are immediately drawn to this little import business that sits along Napa Street. They have a stable of imported Italian scooters all lined up along the edge of the sidewalk just begging to be taken for a ride. The muted colors, the smooth curves, the sparkling chrome and the shiny leather seats all work together to pull in the weak-willed, tongue wagging, potential consumer.
For a year now, I have been waging war with my ironclad willpower in an attempt to get myself to stop the car so I can run my hand along the cool, sensuous curves of one of these two-wheeled seductresses. My somewhat prudish willpower has always won that wrestling match. That is, until today.
Just say the word “Gelato” and my salivary glands begin to work overtime. Gelato aside, say the words “Italian espresso” and I would climb Mt. Everest to reach a steaming demitasse cup of that brain-cell stimulating goodness. Combine a scooter with Italian gelato or espresso and you will find me doing a u-turn on the busiest freeway in America in order to fulfill my fantasies.
Call it marketing genius. Call it savvy business know-how. Call it whatever you want. It worked. Right there, parked along Napa Street was a beautiful gold Vespa sporting a sexy wooden cutout balancing a tray of coffee with a sign overhead that said “Drive-thru.” When my eyes followed the arrow they fell first on a beautiful converted scooter with the word “Gelato” painted on the front.
But be still my heart. Just to the left of the Gelato scooter was a converted Lambretta trike that was serving fresh Italian espresso. I thought I had died and gone off to Heaven.
So what did I do? I threw out my willpower, flipped a you-ee, grabbed my iPhone and stumbled out of my car. All of my Italian fantasies assembled in one tiny parking lot? Absolutely unbelievable. La vita è Bella!